as cheerfully as we could, though it was
impossible to help regretting, what had at first been a source of
consolation, the circumstance of our having caught a view of the
signal at the time we did. But, as the event proved, all had
turned out for the best; for on the day following the signal was
again repeated; and by way of giving additional weight to it, the
Admiral began to shake loose his topsails. Nor did it prove,
like that of yesterday, a false alarm. By mid-day, the
victualling and watering being complete, the fleet immediately
began to get under weigh; and, as the wind blew fair and fresh,
before dark the mountains of St. Michael's could be seen only
like a thin vapour in the sky. Next morning nothing but the old
prospect of air and water met the gaze, as we stood our course,
at a rapid rate, towards Bermuda.

AT SEA

The voyage from St. Michael's to Bermuda occupied the space of
almost an entire month, the first having been lost sight of on
the 27th of June, and it being the 24th of July before the low
shores of the last could be discerned. It was, however, a
passage of more interest and productive of more variety than that
from Bordeaux to the Azores. We had now arrived within the
influence of the tropical climate, and were not unfrequently
amused with water-spouts, and other phenomena peculiar to warm
regions. The flying-fish, likewise, and its pursuer, the
dolphin, afforded at least something to look at; whilst many idle
hours were whiled away in attempts to catch or strike the latter
with harpoons. In these we were not always unsuccessful,
consequently we enjoyed several opportunities of watching the
change of colour which that fish undergoes whilst it is dying;
and though the description generally given of it is certainly
indebted in some degree to the imagination of voyagers, I must
confess that the transitions from blue to purple, and from
purple to green, with all their intermediate shades, are
extremely beautiful. When the fish is in the water, it is by no
means remarkable for brilliancy of hue, and as as soon as it is
dead it returns to its original colour--a dingy sea-green; but
whilst it is floundering and flapping upon the deck, it is
impossible to say what is its real appearance, so many and so
different are the hues which it assumes. Nor did we escape
without the occasional occurrence of a less agreeable species of
variety; I mean squalls, thunder-storms, and whirlwinds. As we